by Leaona Luxx
Sarah straightens next to me, she’s been molded to my side for days. “So I’ve wanted to ask, but it hasn’t crossed my mind in a while. Why do you call her Hadlea?”
One chuckles. “The same reason she calls me Malone.” He raises his brows as Lea joins us, sitting on his lap.
“We like having that just for us. No one else calls us that, so it’s personal.” She smiles.
“That’s crazy sweet.” Sarah smiles.
“Here ya go.” Mom brings us a plate. “I’ll be happy if y’all eat one.”
Sarah twists her mouth to the side as I twirl the Alfredo on the fork. I stab a piece of the Cajun chicken on the end, offering her a bite.
“You first,” she says.
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes at her. She opens her mouth slowly, sticking the tip of her tongue out. I cock my brow, placing it on her tongue. She pulls it off, chewing it with appreciation.
I take a big bite. “Good?”
“So good,” she says through a mouthful.
We finish our meal and part of her plate, and it’s well after midnight before everyone leaves. We sit by the fire, not wanting to go upstairs. It’s either sleep here or in the bed Silas did or walk past his room.
It’s early in the morning before we fall asleep, Sarah in my arms, on the couch. Light streams through the window, too bright for my eyes. I scrub my face with my hands, feeling a chill.
I sit straight up. “Sarah?” I hop up, checking the bathroom down here first.
She has to be upstairs. I take them two at a time, rushing to our room. Nothing. I whip around, scrambling to Silas’ room. I slowly push the door open, she’s curled up in his bed, crying.
I ease over, so as not to scare her, and slip in behind her. She flips around, curling into my arms. “I’m here, baby.”
We doze on and off for a few hours before I force myself up. Sarah’s still sleeping, she needs to make up for all she’s lost. I leave her, hoping she’ll rest for a while. I jump in the shower and get to work on a few things that need to be done.
My phone buzzes halfway into my work. “Hey.”
“How are y’all?” One asks.
“We slept some, ended up in his bed around seven this morning. Sarah’s still there, she needs some rest after the last few months.”
“You should catch some extra sleep too.” He sighs knowing, it’s going in one ear and out the other.
“I needed to make a few calls. His oxygen and other medical supplies should have gone back the other day, so I made arrangements for it on Monday.” I tap my pen on the table.
“I’m sure there was time.”
“Probably.” I hesitate. “I needed something to keep my mind busy.”
“Understandable. So how’s that going?” He chuckles.
“Fucking sucks ass.” I drop my head. “By the way, I never said this but thank you. I appreciate everything you and Lea did to help us.”
“Absolutely, wouldn’t have done it any other way. But there’s no thanks needed. We love y’all, that’s why it was done.”
I sigh. “I know. I’ll get back to work next week, if that’s alright. I want to give Sarah a little more time.”
“Take all the time y’all need, there’s no rush,” he assures me. My chest aches as I think about him.
“I’ll never get over this, One. I don’t have a clue how Sarah will.” I rub the back of my neck.
“Time. Nothing happens overnight, everything needs time.” He’s right.
“I heard that. I guess I’m gonna go check on Sarah, she’s been up there a while.”
“Let us know if we can do anything. Love y’all.”
“Love you, brother.” I end the call, clean up my mess, and head upstairs.
Sarah’s still sleeping, so I decide to leave her; I’m sure she needs it. I won’t lie, I’m worried. She’s broken, and for so long all she had was Silas. I hope she can hang on and help me save what we have left.
I head back downstairs and get to work. I check on Sarah throughout the afternoon, she must be exhausted because she’s still sleeping. I make my way out to the laundry room, clearing a path to the garage.
“What in the hell are we gonna do with all of these?” Silas was sent flowers, cards, gifts and toys by so many people. We can’t keep them all, but I refuse to toss them. I take out my phone, pressing her number.
“Hey, babe,” Lea answers.
“If I hadn’t already gave my heart away, I would’ve gave One a run for his money.”
She giggles. “I might’ve liked that. What’s up?”
I take an exaggerated breath. “I’m working around the house a little, trying to keep my mind busy, you know?”
“Hey, you do what you need. Nobody’s gonna judge.”
“I hope not, it would mess with me bad if people thought I was disrespecting my baby.” I chew my lip, praying no one would think that.
“People grieve differently, Chord. And no one has the right to tell you how to do it. You do what’s best for you.” She’s right, as always.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I need to do.” I sigh.
“One said Sarah was resting, how’s she doing?” Her voice is soft and caring.
I shake my head. “She’s still in bed, I’m gonna try to get her up in a bit.”
“Give her time, maybe this is her process.”
“True, I will.” I sigh, sitting by the mounds of gifts. “The reason I called, I have a few ideas I’d like to get you in on. Ya know, to honor Silas.”
“I’m there. What can I help you with?”
“I’m not sure, I want to do something with your foundation for single mothers, and maybe the hospital for the pediatric cancer wing.” I scrub my hand over my face.
“I think you’re amazing. No better way to honor your child than by helping others. So how can I help?” I love her as much as my siblings. She and Hardy are just as close to me as they are.
“Well, get some ideas for your foundation, and maybe check with the hospital?”
“I can do that, let me check and see what I can come up with. If you need any help with anything else, no matter the time or the problem, we’re here.” I adore her.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, I’ll get right on this. Later.” She giggles.
“Later.”
I straighten out a few other things, eventually making my way back to Sarah. I decide to wake her, maybe get her to eat.
“Sarah?” I run my hand down her back. “Sarah, come and eat with me.”
She mumbles. “Tired.”
I chew my lip. “You’ve gotta eat for me, baby.”
She tilts her head to me. “Tomorrow.”
“Today, you need food.”
“I promise, tomorrow.” She rolls over, her back to me.
I relent. “Tomorrow, I’m holding you to it.” I kiss her head, leaving her to sleep.
I wander out to the beach, I have so much on my mind. Sarah’s scaring the shit outta me. She didn’t even want to acknowledge Valentine’s Day, I hadn’t planned much. She barely eats as it is, and she’s losing weight like crazy.
I fist my hair, I’m losing her.
“Brother.”
I startle. “Fuck, One.”
“What the hell are you doing out here?” He folds his arms.
I run my hands over my face. “I’m losing her. She doesn’t eat, talk, nothing. She stays in bed, sleeping.”
“I know, I think we all hoped she would be fighting to survive by now,” he huffs.
“What the fuck do I do? I can’t make her get up.” I roll my neck, trying to relieve some tension. “I don’t want to make her do a damn thing that she doesn’t want to, I just want her love.”
“She’s been rocked to the core, it’s a hard road to walk.”
I glare at him, eyes wide. “I’m on that fucking road with her, he was my son too.”
“People handle things differently, Chord. Your way of grieving isn’t hers.” He
drops his arms.
“Don’t you think I know that? I do. I want her to be here with me.” I hammer my chest with my fist.
“You need her. Say it, you need Sarah.” One stares at me, and my heart pounds against my chest.
“Yes. I need her. What’s so wrong with that? I feel like I’ve lost them both, One. I can’t.” Tears well in my eyes.
“Maybe it’s time to tell her.” He shrugs.
“For what? So she can think I’m an insensitive asshole.”
“You’re not being callous, you need your spouse.” He cocks his brow. “Or are you afraid she doesn’t need you?”
“I think it’s a moot point, don’t you?”
“I’m not following?” One narrows his eyes.
“She’s never needed me, One. She’s wanted me, but never has she needed me.”
“Is that what you’re upset about?” Fear rages through me like a wildfire.
“No. Yes,” I growl. “I’ve spent a lifetime loving her. She’s like breathing to me; I want air, but I need it to live. Sarah doesn’t work that way.”
“How does she work, Chord?” One cocks his head.
“She learned early not to depend on people. She doesn’t need me, she wants me.”
“Lea was like that or did you forget?” He smirks.
“Now that you mention it, I do remember.” I roll my eyes. “When did she decide she needed you?”
“About the time I told her.” He stares. “You need to tell her.”
“Tell her? Our son passed away a few weeks ago, if I tell her I need her now, that makes me an ass.” I shake my head.
“It makes you human.” He sighs. “What are you afraid of?”
“Losing her.”
I close my eyes as I hear Chord walk up the stairs. He quietly walks in, kisses me, and leaves. He used to lay with me but hasn’t in a few days. It’s dark out, like my soul at this point.
I give him enough time to doze off before I get up. I can’t believe I’m avoiding him. I’m terrible, I know. I don’t have it in me to face him, to admit what’s really going on in my head. I don’t want to share Silas.
I’ve avoided him for days. Even when they came and took his oxygen, I walked into the bathroom. Came back to his bed after they left. It still smells like him, it’s the one place I don’t have to think.
I lay there and it feels as though he’s still here. I close my eyes, pretending he’s right here with me. If I respond to Chord, I’m faced with reality—he’s gone. Besides, Chord knows what I need. And he has his family.
I tiptoe downstairs to grab me something to eat. I have no appetite, but I have to eat. I’ve been eating peanut butter. It has protein in it which helps sustain me, I learned that early in life. Nevertheless, I’m losing weight.
Dipping the spoon in the jar, I take my glass of milk to sit on the steps in the garage. I don’t want to wake Chord. As I lick the spoon, I realize the garage is cleaner. I stand, walking over to check the once empty boxes.
I push the lids open, it’s Silas’ toys. Not the ones from us but the toys people sent to us while he was sick. “Why are they in boxes? Is he getting rid of them?” Blind rage fills me, who does he think he is?
“I can’t believe you. Did he not mean anything to you? I suppose you have everything you need, don’t you?” I stomp into the kitchen, throwing my spoon in the sink. I hurry up the stairs just as Chord stands at the top.
“You’re up, can I get you something?”
“No, I’m fine.” I push past him, heading back into Silas’ room.
He stands in the doorway, shaking his head. “Sarah, I need you...”
I spin on him, full of venom. “What? What do you need, Chord? If you think I’m going to forget about my son and move on, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” He steps toward me, his jaw set.
“You, wanting to move past Silas’ death. You think because you’ve moved on, I should,” I seethe.
“Are you kidding me? I want you to move on? I’m mourning by myself, not with my wife.”
“See, there ya go. I’m not your wife, I’m nothing more to you than a high school fantasy,” I spit at him as my stomach revolts from the lies I’m spewing.
He blanches. His eyes drop to the floor. “Silas’ headstone is being set tomorrow. I’m going over around four to see it. You’re more than welcome to go, if you want.”
That’s it. No more fight, nothing. He’s giving up, like everything else in my life. “Sure.” I stare at him, so much space between us. Everything’s changed.
“I’ll let you know before I leave.” He turns, walking away. There it is, the moment I thought my heart couldn’t break anymore. We’re already over. Before we even got started.
I sit in the recliner, watching the day break in Silas’ room. I’m still trying to understand what happened last night. And what’s with boxing up his things; who does that a few weeks after their son’s death?
I hear Chord the minute he wakes, his breathing changes. He walks through the house, pausing by the door. I side-eye him, waiting. He turns and then right down the stairs he goes. Silent.
Fuming, I follow him downstairs. “When do you plan on leaving?”
“Good morning.” He searches the cabinets.
I narrow my eyes at the back of his head. “What time?”
“Nice to see you’re outta bed.” He won’t even turn around to look at me.
“Whatever. When?” I cross my arms, cocking my hip. I’m not sure what his attitude is about, but I can have one too.
“I suppose, three thirty.” He turns, staring blankly at me.
“I’ll be ready.” I whirl around, stomping up the stairs.
I hurry into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I throw the blanket over me as I lay back down. My body quakes as tears build in my eyes. I don’t understand why he’s being so cruel. This isn’t Chord, not the one I know.
I toss and turn but sleep evades me, like it has for weeks now. Night is a demon that haunts me when I close my eyes. Day brings more of the same, only I can’t hide. I feel as though I’m dying.
Checking the clock on the wall, I see it’s three-twenty-five. “Fuck. I needed to shower, I can’t now.” I drag my nasty ass out of bed, checking myself in the mirror. “You look like shit. Like it matters.” I shrug, jerking the door open. “He’ll never notice.”
Chord’s standing at the top of the stairs. “I was coming to get you.” He turns, walking back down, then he pauses. “It’s cool today, you might want something warm.”
“I don’t have something warm and you know it,” I yell at him, dragging my sweatpants on.
I stomp down the stairs with my dress sweater in my arms. I wait by the bar as he types something on his phone. He points toward me. “Sweatshirt. You’re more than welcome to it.”
One of his sweatshirts hang on the back of a stool. I yank it off as I turn. “Thanks so much.”
He walks past me. “I’m beginning to think I prefer you pretending to sleep.” My mouth pops open. “Let’s go.”
I shove my arms through the hoodie, dragging it over my head. “Yeah, me too.” I storm past him.
He’s right behind me as I yank on the door handle, it’s locked. I cut my eyes at him as he hits the button. “It’s unlocked.”
I close my eyes tightly, climbing in before he can help me. I grab the door to slam it, his arm is there. “I’ve got it.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Fine.”
He shuts the door, continuing around to get in the SUV. He doesn’t say another word as he starts the car and backs out. We sit silently, like strangers, on the way to the cemetery. I have no clue what’s happened to us in the last few weeks, but I don’t like it.
I see the sign before he hits his signal light, and my stomach bottoms out. I grab the door handle, praying I don’t vomit.
“You okay?” His voice is low, as if it pains him to ask.
“I’m fine, I’ll not mess up your precious car.” I cut my eyes at him.
He blows out a long breath. “Alright.”
We take the next right, driving around the semi-circle to get to his place. They’re just leaving as we park. Chord ordered the headstone. I told him I didn’t care what he put on it at the time. Now, I wish I would’ve asked.
He waits on me by the front of the vehicle. We walk side by side toward our son’s grave. I need to block this out. “How did you get this so fast?” My body trembles.
“Dad, he knows the company.” He pauses. “I hope you like it, you said do whatever.”
As we get closer, the markings come into view and my heart melts. “It’s perfect.” His name and birthdate with his departure date. But it’s what’s written on the bottom that makes it perfect.
“To our baby boy, Si. You are our sun, our moon, and all our stars.” The sun, moon and star are symbols.
I gasp. “Chord, it’s beautiful. Perfect, even.”
His chest heaves. “Do you think? I thought it was important to have something to remind us of your dad.”
My eyes lock on his, I nod. “Absolutely. I love it.”
“I’m happy you like it.” He sighs.
We spend some time with him, a few weeks has felt like a lifetime. I don’t know what I’ll do in two months. Chord stays back when I’m overcome, giving me room to grieve. When he steps toward me, I hold my hand up.
I grapple with myself, gathering my strength to get to my feet. Chord reaches for me, but I refuse his hand. He’s been a stranger for weeks now, don’t pretend because we’re here. I’m over playing house.
He holds my door open, not offering his hand this time. Once we’re back on Highway Seventeen, he breaks the silence. “I need to get some gas, is that alright?”
I roll my eyes. “Get the gas, I don’t care.” I prop my head up with my hand, leaning against the window.
He pulls in, parking at the first pump we see. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” I snap.
He takes a deep breath, sliding from the seat. I watch him from the side mirror, he looks different. He looks like me. Am I being too harsh with him? Maybe he didn’t think about the toys the way I do? It could have been innocent.
